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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960022">mis en place (the luck of it all)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveofeun/pseuds/eveofeun'>eveofeun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Restaurant, But just a little, F/F, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Restaurant Drama, Touch-Starved, cloud and tifa grew up in midwest america vibes, michelin star restaurant au, ratings will go up in future, sephiroth if he didnt go thru one million trauma, side aerti and angeal/gen, tags will evolve as i write</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:15:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveofeun/pseuds/eveofeun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud knew he was overpreparing for a chance at a job that he would never be able to get, but he was going to try for two reasons. One, his childhood friend Tifa was a bartender there and he needed someone he knew in the big fucking city of Midgar. Two, for the chance to work with Sephiroth, Midgar’s reluctant celebrity chef and owner of the three Michelin star restaurant Valentine au Dôme.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart, Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Interview</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Oh, shit.”</em>
</p><p>Cloud grumbled.</p><p>He slept through his alarm clock and now only had three hours to prepare for his interview. That was in four hours. And the car ride only took twenty minutes. Cloud knew he was overpreparing for a chance at a job that he would never be able to get, but he was going to try for two reasons. One, his childhood friend Tifa was a bartender there and he needed someone he knew in the big fucking city of Midgar. Two, for the chance to work with Sephiroth, Midgar’s reluctant celebrity chef and owner of the three Michelin star restaurant Valentine au Dôme. </p><p>Words could not express how shocked he was when he got called in for an interview by Chef Angeal a week ago. The moment the call ended, Cloud immediately dialed his mother. She drove 6 hours just to knock on his door while haphazardly cradling a bottle of cheap pink moscato.  The first thing she did was chide him on how he was keeping his apartment space. But after settling her down to his shabby Ikea dinner table, the two clinked their wine glasses and drank. The hours of chatting and the intoxication that washed over him caused his mother’s words to swim and blur. He woke up the next morning tucked neatly into his bed, a note left on his nightstand from his mother and a wide smile on his face. </p><p>Cloud stumbled out of the bed to get to the bathroom, running half his body into the doorframe. He brushed his teeth in the shower, sleepily staring at the cream colored tile wall, his unnaturally unruly hair withered into a mop covering some parts of his eyes. Cloud couldn’t afford to smell like whoop ass on this particularly important day. Hopping out of the warm shower gave him enough vigor to finally wake up. Shaving the pathetic excuse of a stubble that he accrued over the past few days, blow drying his hair, that would be his everyday routine if he didn’t quit his job a few days ago. The reason why he quit his most recent sous chef gig was because he felt the need for a different experience, being stuck in the same work environment made him feel trapped, chained to a redundant routine that he had now mastered.</p><p>The only thing that he splurged on was an expensive cologne, a nice dress shirt, and some slacks. And also his motorcycle. He barely gave a shit about his decrepit 10 year old grey Toyota Corolla, slapping a “Chocobos &amp; Da Crew” on his bumper and placing a chocobo beanie baby at the back. He wanted to make it loud and clear that his affection and love for chocobos occupied a large part of his heart and brain, but for the first time he was questioning if he should make his interests known.</p><p>Ironing his dress shirt and slacks felt like it took forever, a part of him wanted to get the interview he had over with, whether he got the job or not. Cloud got a bad case of pre-interview jitters, probably the worse he’s had in a while. The uptight standards he’ll have to uphold in the interview was what scared him, those standards in the kitchen would feel like second nature since he had worked in an environment where the head chef would strive to get a Michelin star. But formalities is what bothered him.</p><p>Cloud gazed at himself in his body length mirror. He didn’t look awful. His hair maybe looked… well, different to others. He wasn’t going to change it anytime soon. Cloud turned around, checking if there were any wrinkles on the back of his button up. Thankfully there wasn’t.</p><p>A spritz of Acqua Di Gio. Then out his bedroom. Cloud poured himself a glass of iced coffee and munched on a croissant he made two days ago, absentmindedly staring at the weirdly stained walls of his kitchen walls. It just came like that. He didn’t want to know what it was and didn’t bother to touch it. Was it nut? Who the fuck thinks nutting on the kitchen wall was a good idea? Gel? Dubious food splatters? Cloud had spoken to his landlord once and decided that he was an asshole and didn’t want to interact with him ever. Unless it was very necessary. Most of the time he could call his mom over to fix shit anyways. Eyes landing back on his phone made him sigh out. There was still two hours left before the interview. He examined the potential questions of the interview that he wrote in his Moogle documents and read aloud what answers he would give.</p><p>Cloud knew he would be lucky if there was one question that was other than a “tell me about yourself”. There were several people who he had contacted that were past students from his culinary school that he reached from the old Cactuarbook group that went in for interviews and the questions all seemed to be different from michelin restaurant to restaurant. Like, if you were a vegetable what would you be? Who asks that kind of question? From a different student, he heard that the chef asked if they ever went to other michelin restaurants for interviews. They didn’t know if the answer they had given was good or not, just that they didn’t get the job. No one has ever gotten an interview from Valentine au Dôme and they congratulated him on the fact that he got to be the first student out of them all that could get an interview from such a renowned restaurant. He didn’t need that now, even if he appreciated the gesture. He needed answers. Specifically questions, but time had run out and he had to go in feeling unprepared, even if he’d spent hours trying to prepare for the interview.</p><p>Eyes checking the phone became incessant, was he going to be late or too early? He didn’t want to sit in the parking lot of the restaurant in his shitty car for an hour, but traffic could be unpredictable too. What if the chef that interviews him saw him sitting in his car? What if the chef interviewing him ended up hating chocobos? The chocobo that chilled on the rear deck? His chocobo bumper sticker? Such monsters do exist. Cloud remembered watching a video in high school psychology on how important first impressions were and how that correlated with the probability of succeeding on a job interview. Within 30 seconds of an interview, most of them would know if they wanted to hire the interviewee. Simply wearing something that the interviewer didn’t like could mean never having a chance at the job at all.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Fuck. </em> </strong>
</p><p>Overthinking was what he was doing right now. Something that he shouldn’t be doing before an interview. He remembered an old roommate of his back in culinary school, Zack Fair, who told him to “chill out a little, you’re gonna manifest the shit thing you’re thinking about and I’m not going to let you do that” and then proceeded to give him another one of his weed brownies for safekeeping and good luck before giving him a hug. Cloud wondered how Zack was doing now. Dropping his phone and shattering it on the front steps of his childhood home right after he graduated and losing all of his contacts was the universe’s way of humbling him down from such a joyous occasion.</p><p>Cloud stood in his kitchen awkwardly after placing the dishes in the sink. Risking a water stain from rinsing his cup and plate was something he wasn’t going to do. There was an hour left until the interview so he got his essentials before jogging downstairs to the parking lot where his janky car rested.</p><p>The short journey was hectic. Cloud forgot how awful were drivers in Midgar until he got on the road and nearly got his car wrecked every two fucking seconds. Parking near the restaurant, he checked his watch. There were still 30 minutes left.</p><p>
  <strong>“Kweh!”</strong>
</p><p>Cloud jumped in his seat, completely not prepared for his text notification sound to blare through his car speakers. He fumbled with his phone, noticing Tifa texted him.</p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: hey, i wanted to tell you that you’ll do great. you gotta believe in yourself!</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>: uhhh we’ll see about that. im waiting outside the restaurant. you know how janky my car is. make sure no one goes outside to see my car or something.</p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: chocobo &amp; da crew… dont even worry about it, we just got finished briefing on tonight’s menu and now we’re prepping the ingredients. well, that’s mostly for the kitchen chefs. i just had to make sure i still had my shit. they’ll be busy as shit.</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>: im stupidly glad about that. do you have any idea who my interviewer is?</p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: honestly i have no idea, sometimes it changes. it would be the other sous chefs or… you know….</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>:</p><p> </p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: JSHDJSHJSHJSJKS ??? maybe?</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>: i dont even know how to react to the idea of sephiroth interviewing me. do you know how shit i am at not overthinking??? how the fuck did i not think of that?? why do i have to think abt it right now???</p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: dude if it makes u feel any better, he’s actually… kinda chill. makes the workspace a really nontoxic environment compared to a lot of other michelin starred restaurants. just looks intimidating.</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>: maybe????? i will try to not lose my shit. and that’s relieving to hear, i was somewhat concerned abt living thru hell.</p><p><strong>Tifa</strong>: trust me! you wont. i have to do shit now im in the bathroom here just to text u. i gotta go ok bye!!</p><p><strong>Cloud</strong>: okay bye,,</p><p>Cloud threw his head back onto his headrest and groaned for a solid minute.</p><hr/><p>9:20am. Just 40 minutes before an interview he was supposed to conduct. Sephiroth woke up at 5am, met up with his staff members at around 8am to discuss the menu, and they were now preparing for the courses that would be served this dinner shift. He nearly developed a long lasting headache because of the fact that the snow peas that came in were defective. They were smaller by six millimeters, so he hurriedly dialed his suppliers and speedily attained a shipment of the correct sized peas. To any normal person who worked outside a Michelin starred restaurant, such differences seemed so minuscule and stupid to change. But to Sephiroth, it mattered immensely. Consistency of quality in the dishes, flavor of the combined ingredients, and the high standards of the components of the courses is what makes a restaurant distinguished. A sub par snowpea does not belong in the dishes of his patrons.</p><p>Sephiroth pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as he sat down at his office beside the kitchen, closing his eyes. Enjoying his work was something that he stood behind, but he couldn’t deny that his occupation tended to raise his blood pressure. Oftentimes, there would be saying there is a fine line between a sociopath and a Michelin chef. He would correct that person and say that instead of a sociopath, it would be a masochist. His adoptive father told him plainly that the Michelin star didn’t inherently matter multiple times, that it was just a tire company willing to use restaurants as a marketing ploy for their tires and he agrees, but he is doing it for his own sake. For his envisionment of cruel perfection because there is something freeing in chasing the impossible. Three stars didn’t worth anything to him, just an accolade given by a corporation. It was his own want for achieving the impossible that was keeping this restaurant at it’s supposed godly status. Sephiroth knew that he wouldn't achieve perfection, but there was a thrill in being close. To chase that thrill, he needed several chefs under him.</p><p>He figured that one more sous chef in his kitchen could be beneficial since his workload on handling the rest of the chefs in his kitchen was getting too tedious. Angeal, Genesis, Aerith, Barret, and Zack felt pressure in watching over several line chefs so he needed one more person to help manage the kitchen space. He also felt that with an addition of a sous chef, there would be even more control over the kitchen and can alleviate the workload of his multiple chefs de partie. It has been years since the last one left.  An overworked person is bound to fail and he doesn’t want to hear anything about coworkers falling ill because they put their work before their health. He heard plenty of chefs talk amongst each other about how hellish their work experiences were in other Michelin starred restaurants.</p><p>Sephiroth wondered about his interviewee. From reading his application, Cloud fitted the part of a sous chef in his kitchen. He didn’t seem overly pompous. Modest, but confident in his abilities. He appeared to be able to lead a group of people and instill warmth and community, but not fuck around too much so that he would lead his chefs astray. Several applications he received had a tone of voice that was too uppity for his liking. Genesis can be haughty at times, but he was passionate in what he did and wasn’t afraid to receive constructive criticism in order to improve.</p><p>In order to be more open minded with his possible coworker and to get rid of the tension that pounded the temples of his forehead, Sephiroth took three Tylenol with his coffee and leaned back in his office chair. The interview would be rather simple. Ask him what he has done, what he does outside of this occupation, what made him gravitate towards his restaurant, if one dish could represent who he is as a person, what would it be, and more. Sephiroth included the question about food because it did somehow represent the person he was interviewing, not really because he wanted to judge the person’s food of choice. No one eats fine dining at home.</p><p>What he was more excited about was the physical demonstration of Cloud’s skills. Sephiroth wanted to watch him make a dish of their signature egg sandwich, which consisted of a toasted egg yolk between two slices of house made brioche, coated in high quality butter from France, which would be baked and garnished with a neat spoonful of sturgeon caviar. It sounded simple, but there was a fair amount of accuracy that had to be achieved in order to master the dish. However, there would be some leeway on how perfect the sandwich looks since it’d be Cloud’s first time ever making this dish. Sephiroth also wanted his interviewee to provide an extra oomph to this dish because he could spare an hour and a half for a demonstration.</p><p>While Sephiroth waited for time to pass, he sported his steel framed reading glasses while occupying himself with <em>Kafka On the Shore</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>Cloud had around 10 minutes before his interview and knowing that he was directionally challenged at times, he got out the car. He locked it and walked over to the restaurant, which didn’t really take him any time. He was supposed to go to an office that is at the very end of the right corner of the restaurant. Valentine au Dôme’s interior was modernistic to say the least. The walls were black. The tables and chairs were made of what seems to be a dark walnut wood.  Varied glass bulb pendant lights hung off the ceiling at differing lengths. The light hitting the wine glasses almost made the whole area twinkle. Cloud saw a few servers arrange more of the dining war at different tables and saw them whip out a ruler to measure how far each set of plates should be from each other. Cloud ended up finding the office with 5 minutes to spare.</p><p>He remembered to do some breathing exercises as he counted down the minutes. The moment the clock struck 10, Cloud walked in.</p><p>Oh, holy shit.</p><p>Oh, fuck that’s him.</p><p>
  <em>Right there.</em>
</p><p>It took Cloud everything in him to not flinch or appear surprised at the sight of Sephiroth, lounging around in this office chair. Just his fucking luck. An interview with the man he looked up to immensely. A chance to be scrutinized by Midgar’s main celebrity chef. As impossible as it is, Sephiroth looked better than the photoshoots that were featured in various culinary magazines. Silver hair flowed down the front of his right shoulder, gathered in a low ponytail. Sephiroth’s eyes had a cat-like quality to them, its green hues deep and perceptive. Everything about him was stupidly regal.</p><p>Cloud carefully walked in with Sephiroth’s eyes right on him, pulling away at the black velvet club chair that was positioned in front of the desk.</p><p>Sephiroth scanned over Cloud. Rummaging through mountains of resumes had landed him here. His personal requirements for his future employee was someone who had experience on both ends of the spectrum of cookery, from hometown chain diners to other high end restaurants. Sephiroth focused back on Cloud, noting to himself that this man looked like a chocobo, his wild blond hair sticking out from his head without any sort of hair gel. His interviewee seemed well put together, donned in a well fitted white button up with rolled up sleeves and some neatly ironed black slacks. Simple, but professional. He watched the blond walk in front of him, staring at him head on. Sephiroth was frankly already impressed with Cloud’s application, his transcripts from the culinary school he attended were stellar and his practical experiences from a Denny’s in Nibelheim to a few well known French restaurants in Midgar were more than adequate. His recommendations from several culinary professors and several head chefs did favors for his reputation. Sephiroth reached his hand out for a handshake. </p><p>“Hello, Cloud Strife.” Cloud greeted as he took Sephiroth’s hand to shake.</p><p>“Greetings, Sephiroth Valentine.” Sephiroth gave Cloud a small affirmative smile, “Nice to meet you.” Sephiroth answered back.</p><p>Cloud never in a million years thought he would be shaking Sephiroth’s hand. In fact, he didn’t fully process the fact that Sephiroth would interview him. It hit him like a bag of bricks. Right on his head. Deep somewhere in his two-celled brain, the 13 year old Cloud inside of him would flip his shit. Reaching into that handshake was almost dreamy, yet seeing Sephiroth smile at him just for the sake of professional necessities reminded him of how far he had gotten in his culinary journey to even end up in this situation. Cloud wasn't proud of many things in his life, but he sure as hell was proud of his occupation as well as his skills in the kitchen. Sephiroth thought Cloud was different enough, skilled enough to consider him worth his time and that, in itself was an accomplishment.</p><p>He made sure that the handshake was firm and hearty to give a good impression, as all interviewees should. He sat down around the same time Sephiroth did. Cloud had been through enough interviews to somewhat know how one should work, but applying to a Michelin starred restaurant was infinitely different. There was no room for imperfection at all, he was ready for that standard in the kitchen. Weariness lingered on the more wordy aspects of his application process. His experience as a sous-chef taught him managerial skills and allowed him to have some semblance of keeping it together when there were workplace difficulties and he knew that would come in handy for this job. </p><p>The interview went well, Sephiroth satisfied with Cloud’s answers. However, what mattered more was how Cloud did in the kitchen. The demonstration section of the job interview would prove Cloud Strife to be worthy of working in his kitchen or not. When he mentioned the technical part of the interview would come next, Cloud’s tension started to ease. Sephiroth took note of that.</p><p>Cloud’s shoulders loosened up as he readied himself to showcase his abilities in fine cookery. He had brought his own chef’s uniform, so he excused himself to change. Cloud strode into the restroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt to wear the uniform. He washed his hands, staring into the mirror while quietly whispering to himself.</p><p>“You’re going to do great. If you don’t get the job, that’s okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll just get another restaurant from a fucking uppity restaurant.”</p><p>After drying his hands, Cloud went back to Sephiroth’s office. The silver-haired man led him to a small kitchen in the back of his office. The ingredients were already laid out on the steel kitchen island and next to it, there was a small paper. A recipe scribed onto a pearlescent piece of paper in a minimalist font. Cloud’s eyes scanned over the instructions carefully, but quickly. This was  Valentine au Dôme’s signature egg yolk sandwich. Admittedly, he had seen a few videos on this dish. He always thought this part of the Valentine au Dôme course looked almost cute. Most of the dishes looked like nothing short of a piece of art, but there was something charming about a yolk in between two small golden brown pieces of bread.</p><p>Cloud stretched his hands out and effortlessly started working. Tempering the eggs, gently picking out the golden yolks, toasting them, measuring out the house made brioche with a ruler, spreading soft fat content heavy butter over them. Those steps flew by, Cloud completely aware of his surroundings but also hyper focused on the accuracy of the course as if it would be served out to this establishment’s customers. As he was placing the egg yolks onto the pieces of bread, his eyes locked with Sephiroth’s. Just as fast as it happened, the eye contact ended as he flipped over the pieces of bread onto the yolks. Cloud placed his hand over the plancha to make sure the temperature was hot enough before grilling them. After he was finished with grilling them, Cloud neatly plated his creation on a grey, dark brown speckled ceramic plate. After sprinkling bright green chives, using a metal spoon, he gathered sturgeon caviar, rolled it neatly to form a perfect spooned shape before garnishing it gently on the sandwich. Cloud was finally finished.</p><p>Sephiroth was thoroughly impressed with how naturally Cloud took to the recipe and kitchen. Usually, when he conducted interviews, there would be an air of unease around the interviewee while they were engaged in the kitchen, but Cloud didn’t have any of that. It was as if he was born to be a chef. He needed someone like that in his kitchen. A sous-chef cannot shy away from preparing ingredients, even if they didn’t have to do that sort of work. A sous-chef has to be good at everything, not just on scrutinizing the rest of the chefs. Cloud’s egg yolk sandwiches looked exceptional for a first timer. He walked up to Cloud, eyes staring into his while he picked a yolk sandwich between his thumb and index fingers then proceeded to place it into his mouth. Humming in satisfaction, Sephiroth closed his eyes. It tasted perfect.</p><p>“Your shift is tomorrow. It starts at 8 o’clock in the morning in the kitchen,” Sephiroth informed smoothly as he opened his eyes, “Follow me back into my office, I have your temporary uniform ready. By the beginning of next week, you’ll have one with your name embroidered on it.”</p><p>Cloud couldn’t believe what he had heard, his eyes getting wide. ‘Did I actually get in?’ echoed through his brain, varying volumes and timing flooding in. Uniform? Custom uniform? Did he get in? He snapped back into the present, Sephiroth was staring at his expectantly.</p><p>“Yes, sir.” He replied back curtly, wanting to sound formal to his now higher up.</p><p>“Oh, you don’t need to call me that. Just… Sephiroth is good. No need to be formal with me.  Before you follow me, I recommend you taste what you have made. It’s rather delightful.” </p><p>Cloud nodded before tasting the yolk sandwich. The golden yolk added a creamy taste that accompanied the gentle sweetness of the brioche.  Caviar popped in his mouth, not overly salty or fishy, it tasted like the sea. No amount of purple prose can accurately describe what it was like to consume this delicacy. The chives gave the dish a brightness that made it pop. Like how Sephiroth has described, what he made was delightful.</p><p>“I’ll bring these to the chefs de partie as a snack,” Sephiroth stated before he began to walk to the door of the small kitchen.</p><p>Cloud promptly followed. Feeling as though he was a chocobo chick following just about anything that moved. Processing what had happened in the last minute was difficult until he got back into the celebrity chef’s office. </p><p>Sephiroth turned to one of his drawers that was near his desk and fished out a neatly folded uniform. It was medium sized since Cloud didn’t seem too petite or hefty. He turned around to stride up to him, gently setting the clothing into his new sous-chef’s hands. </p><p>“Thank you, Sephiroth. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Cloud didn’t really know what else to say because he felt like if he spoke more, the Windows start up sound might erupt from his lungs. Or even worse, he’d just end up babbling about how much he looked up to the man and he knew that was obscenely unprofessional.</p><p>Sephiroth nodded before Cloud went to the door and left. He didn’t seem too talkative. Was it because he was quiet outside of the interview or was it because he simply was… Sephiroth? He knew he was intimidating looking to others, many of his coworkers had not warmed up to him yet other than his chefs de partie, two of them being his best friends since high school. Sighing out, he went out of his office after a few minutes to head back into the kitchen to monitor how the productivity of his coworkers was affected. Thank god nothing happened. Everyday he was thankful for his competent chefs.</p><p>Cloud was outside of the restaurant, taking a few steps away from the windows of Valentine au Dôme before jumping up and down in glee, silently screaming in glee. He had to go celebrate with some sushi for dinner and play some Dragon Quest. He could do a million things today before going to bed at a decent time tonight and he was excited for tomorrow. When was the last time he was excited for what was to come the next day? Calling his mom and texting Tifa was the first few things Cloud was going to do the moment he got home. As he started to calm down from his impromptu celebration, the phone in his back pocket started to vibrate. Taking out his phone, Cloud saw who the caller was and his face twisted in disdain. His landlord. He picked up the call.</p><p>“Hey Cloud, I wanted to tell you something.”</p><p>“What is it, Rafael?”</p><p>“I’m evicting you. I’m in fact, evicting everyone in the building. Someone offered me a decent amount of money. They’ll be bulldozing the building to build a new one over. You have one month to move out. Also, last month’s rent is due tomorrow. ” Rafael muttered, seemingly smug with evicting Cloud in particular.</p><p>Cloud closed his eyes for a moment, his head starting to pound, before speaking. He knew damn well this wasn't legal. But he didn't have the spare money to call a lawyer.</p><p>“Alright, thank you for telling me.”</p><p>Cloud hung up the call and leaned against the wall before rolling around upright. This always happened. Something good occured, then the universe said fuck you, pushed him into a ditch and had him die. He had crawled up every single time, but he wondered when the last time he’d be able to do that would be. He heard the door of the establishment open, but he didn’t pay it any mind.</p><p>“Yo! Cloud, is that you?”, said the person opening the door. </p><p>Cloud’s head perked up and he decided to look at the person who has called out his name. It’s strange because Tifa is the only one who knew his name, as well as Sephiroth. Who else could possibly be in that kitchen who knew his name? He kept thinking, his brain turning into jello with how high his day had taken him to how low it went. It was abysmal to say the least, but it’s better than losing his home and then not getting the job. He didn’t know if he could even cope with that kind of day. Sure, his therapist had helped him through his extremely negative, snowballing thinking process and offered him her support, but there was no denial that there was now one more glaringly obvious problem in his life.</p><p>“Hey, Cloud! Hello? Earth to Cloud?” </p><p>Cloud didn’t bother to look, maybe this person was just mistaken with someone else. He didn’t know anyone else who was named Cloud, but in Midgar, he was sure there was at least one person named that. He would keep thinking that if the voice didn’t get so close. Cloud felt a presence.</p><p>Once he did look, Cloud’s eyes widened and his lips went agape.</p><p><em> Holy shit. </em> </p><p>That was the second time he really thought and felt that phrase in all of its gravity. </p><p>“Zack?” </p><p>Cloud jogged up to Zack, who was running to meet him halfway. Grieving the instability of his life hindered him from recognizing who Zack was. His old confidant, fellow dumb of ass, and close friend whom he had not contacted in 3 years.</p><p>“Dude, it’s been so long! What have you been up to? Oh my god, you look all fancy too.” Zack complimented, dapping up Cloud effortlessly, as if it hadn’t been years since he last did that. </p><p>“Zack, the universe has given me a job here. Which is great,” Cloud answered, “That’s why I look decent for once. It was for a job interview. ”</p><p>“What?! I’m so happy for you, dude. I knew you would make it.” Zack affirmed. “You always look decent, so don’t say that. I also wanted to say that I’m sorry for not contacting you. My shit got robbed on graduation night, but it was completely chill. Like, absolutely okay.”</p><p>Cloud’s eyes widened, a laugh threatened to make its way through his voice. Zack, oh Zack, the type of guy who tends to have the same type of incidents that Cloud is subjected to happen to him. But Zack handled it so much better. </p><p>“Would you believe me if I told you that my phone got fucked up on graduation night? Yuffie was driving me back home and helped me to the front door, dropped it, lost everything.” Cloud explained with a sheepish grin. </p><p>“I mean, with your luck… that isn’t out of the question. But look, now you got a phone, got a job where I work at, and…” Zack scanned over the parking lot that was ahead of the restaurant and landed his eyes on Cloud’s Corolla, “And you have a car? Some people don’t have cars.” </p><p>It was almost as if Zack knew that something bad happened to him just now with how he was making an effort to comfort him to an extent. “I mean, you’re right. Still the same chocobo mobile. I need a new car sometime after I figure some things out. We should catch up later tonight if you want. Here’s my number,” Cloud fished out his phone and soon Zack did the same. </p><p>His day had two dramatic ups and one dramatic down. It was eventful, but Cloud really didn’t mind when it came down to it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello! this is my first fic. i finally gotten a beta reader. i am still learning how to navigate with the formatting of chapters. please leave a kudo, comment, and bookmark if u liked it! thank u so much.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once he got home, Cloud took off the top of his chef uniform at the doorway while clutching his Valentine au Dôme uniform, flinging his shoes off before stumbling to his couch. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins was fading away at an incredible speed and he felt like he was shriveling up into a raisin. He closed his eyes for a solid second until he gathered up enough willpower to home deliver sushi. Cloud knew it was way too expensive, but he couldn’t care less today. He got a job at Valentine au Dôme and he’ll get to work as a sous-chef. Right under Sephiroth. </p>
<p>There was something oddly… non threatening about Sephiroth. Cloud knew that was too strong of a word to describe his higher up. It was strange enough to call Sephiroth his higher up when in the past he would call him his idol. A celebrity crush of sorts. Sephiroth didn't rip him into shreds over anything and requested Cloud to just refer to him as his name, completely beseeching the title of head chef in favor of personableness. Sephiroth’s demeanor was quiet but sincere. In a lot of interviews that Sephiroth was in, he seemed cold to say the least. Beautiful and perfect, but unreachable. Cloud was completely ready for his perception of Sephiroth to change, albeit in a negative manner. But it had evolved into the same direction of what he already felt for the silver haired man. He knew that to hold Sephiroth in such high regards wouldn’t be useful in his profession because he cannot oogle at him all day. But there was a sense of admiration. He held his newly issued chef uniform to his chest tightly. Cloud’s head felt fuzzy, high on his achievement. He sat like that until the door rang. </p>
<p>Cloud took his time as he ate, dipping his hamachi sashimi absentmindedly into his wasabi and soy sauce concoction as he thought about what had happened a mere three hours ago. His phone chimed out. A text from Tifa. </p>
<p><b>Tifa: </b>how did you do?? :o i'm having a break before i go back to prepping. </p>
<p><b>Cloud: </b>i got the job, which is great. im just… vibing in my success with some sushi.</p>
<p><b>Tifa: </b>ur so lucky,, i would kill for some. one of our sous chefs is going to make some chicken parm for all of us </p>
<p><b>Cloud: </b>hell yeah! i'm excited for my first shift. i’ll get to see you too.  i'm kinda nervous for work tomorrow. and you know what’s funny? the person who interviewed me ended up being sephiroth. he didn’t scare the shit out of me, which is great. </p>
<p><b>Tifa: </b>im sure you'll do fine! you'll finally get to meet the girl i like! and see? sephiroth isn't all that scary. </p>
<p><b>Cloud: </b>aerith???? i cant wait!! and yeah all of his interviews didn't do any justice for how normal he is. he’s still special in a way. but he’s not an asshole. i was fully prepared for him to have a shit personality. </p>
<p><b>Tifa: </b>u will realize how sweet and cute aerith truly is. best cookie maker. best girl. jskdjskhsdsk everyday im thankful that he’s not an asshole because if i have to deal with a shithead in this work environment i would literally punch the shit out of a boulder</p>
<p><b>Cloud: </b>and you’re telling to not worry about my first shift fuckk </p>
<p><b>Tifa: </b>you will live!! i'm gonna go do some more work now!!! i’ll see u tomorrow!</p>
<p><b>Cloud: </b>aight byee !</p>
<p>Cloud began to watch Wutube while eating the remainder of his chirashi. Somehow he had stumbled onto some obscure sausage making videos. After just 10 minutes his phone rang. It was his mom. He chatted with her and told her about his success before breaking up the bad news of the day, then soothed it over by saying that he was meaning to move out anyway. The phone call ended fairly quickly and the day went by slowly. Before he knew it, Cloud was already in bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>To Sephiroth, everyday felt monotonous. It was always waking up, work, going home, and sleeping. This day was no different, the work shift going as smoothly as it could. Barely any technical difficulties with the kitchenware and his chefs de partie were as stellar as ever. The customers were the same too. He enjoyed what he did for the most part, no matter how much of its time it took. Yet, he was human and he needed a destresser. </p>
<p>Sephiroth arrived at the front door of his luxury condo at 12am, unlocking the entrance to his residency in complete silence. He didn’t know his neighbors personally, but he knew a few celebrities lived in this particular condominium complex. He didn’t care to greet anyone who occupied the condos next to him. He just wasn’t the kind of person who would subject himself to such pleasantries. He slipped off his black Oxfords and placed them neatly into his dark brown shoe cabinet. For dinner, he decided to cook up some one pan creamy garlic pasta. It didn’t take a lot of time and there was no need to appease anyone but himself. He knew there would be various Italian grandmothers who would cry at the way he was preparing his meal, making one pan pasta seemed like a sin but he didn’t care. Anything in regards to his life outside of work was filled with mostly apathy except a few special things that he would never disclose to anyone.</p>
<p>When he was finished with cooking, he set his plate at his broad dinner table and strided up to the refrigerator for a bottle of chilled Ladera Sauvignon Blanc 2016. Sephiroth ended up drinking his wine while enjoying his pasta, John Coltrane’s <em> My Favorite Thing </em>softly resonating in his home. The windows in his living room were large, the night city view of Midgar twinkling. Sephiroth stared at the glowing sky scrapers absentmindedly. He knew some would look at his lifestyle as rather barren, and to some degree he would agree. There were only three people who were close to him. His father, Angeal, and Genesis. When he gets home, he eats dinner, takes a shower, and goes to sleep. When he gets a day off, his friends would be working, so he would spend his time alone. He was used to it though. And when needed, he’d push down the part of him that screamed for excitement until he was not required to do so. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The drive to work the next morning was the same deal as when he drove to his interview. Cloud at some point sucked at driving a car, but being launched into city life made him improve by force. He felt much more comfortable on his motorcycle, but he didn’t know if it was necessarily professional to come into work with his motorcycle parked so close to the restaurant. He didn’t really want to ask Sephiroth or any of his fellow chefs if it was okay. It was 7:45 o clock, so he wasn’t too early or too late. </p>
<p>The servers didn’t seem to have arrived yet, the atmosphere relatively quiet other than the occasional pitter patter of footsteps in the back of the restaurant. Zipping past a few empty tables, Cloud made a beeline towards the kitchen. The moment he got in, Tifa jogged up to him with her hand up for a high five. He landed his high five perfectly. Advice: Eyes on the elbow. Tifa then hugged the living shit out of him, Cloud choking before she let him go.</p>
<p>“Congratulations on getting the job!”, Tifa chimed, a wide grin. </p>
<p>“Thanks, Tif,” Cloud smiled softly. He missed her. It’d been a while since he had seen her. Tifa left Nibelheim after high school and traveled abroad for a while before landing a job in Valentine au Dôme. When he moved to Midgar, they sparsely met due to their hectic schedules. He kept contact with her on the various instant messaging apps, each one falling out of fashion over the course of time. Her hair was longer, but nothing about her had changed too much. </p>
<p>“You know him?” </p>
<p>Cloud connected that deep voice to the extremely buff and tall man, his skin a dark brown. His chef uniform looked like it was about to bust at the seams, his face looked inquisitive at his presence. </p>
<p>“Yeah, he’s a close friend of mine. Knew him since like, forever,” Tifa answered back in a chirp while patting at Cloud’s shoulder. </p>
<p>Cloud approached the man, reaching his hand out for a handshake and introduced himself, “It’s nice to be working with you. My name’s Cloud”.</p>
<p>“A handshake? Thanks, man. The name’s Barret. It’s good to have a sous-chef again, we needed one and honestly, I know Sephiroth is picky as fuck so it’s surprising that it didn’t take him much time,” Barret shook his hand firmly before letting go. </p>
<p>Another voice rang in as someone else entered the kitchen. Another chef de partie whose uniform was a deep crimson with the name “Genesis” embroidered in black thread. </p>
<p>“Oh? Sephie picked someone and actually found someone worthy enough? In two weeks? That’s a record if anything,” The auburn haired man remarked before almost waltzing towards Cloud, his eyes squinting ever so slightly, analyzing him before his face contorted into a guileful grin, “I’m Genesis Rhapsodos.”</p>
<p>Cloud stared back awkwardly before holding his hand out. Genesis shook his hand. </p>
<p>“The name’s Cloud. It’s good to meet you.” Cloud answered back. He could already tell that Genesis’ personality was something he had to get used to, he didn’t know how to interact with people who were over the top. Genesis looked like the type of guy to speak all flowery while holding a rose. Barret seemed like he would be on the same wavelength as him and he got to the point. </p>
<p>Before Cloud could say anything, he heard heavy, uncollaborative steps stomp right outside. The metal door opened and slammed against the wall of the kitchen, Zack emerging while panting. He stopped in his steps before scanning the room with a sheepish smile. Once his eyes landed on Cloud, his whole face perked up. </p>
<p>“Yoooo, Cloud!” Zack ran to Cloud before performing their secret handshake in front of everyone, Cloud grinning. </p>
<p>“Zack, now we both have to tend to our boy,” Tifa joked, slapping Cloud’ back with a laugh. </p>
<p>“You’re damn right,” Zack giggled out as he ruffled up Cloud’s spiky hair, the blond jokingly trying to pry away from his grasp. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tifa couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Cloud had now two people he knew would be working with him. Zack was recently hired to work in Valentine au Dôme and genuinely didn’t know that the Tifa that worked with him in the restaurant was the same Tifa that Cloud mentioned to him way back then. Yesterday, Zack messaged Tifa, asking if she knew Cloud and now they’re here.  If he knew, he would have definitely tried to get in contact with Cloud sooner. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zack was trying catching his breath as he finally let go of Cloud, pausing for a few seconds, “Oh, yeah, by the way there was a horde of geese that was chasing me and one of them nearly got into the restaurant but I ran fast enough and then,” Zack was physically demonstrating his strife with the long necked shitty avians, running in place, “I shut the door, but kept running because I don’t know? I felt like I needed to.” </p>
<p>Genesis and Barret hissed in their breath at the mention of a goose getting into the building. Oh, what disaster that would be. </p>
<p>“What’s with you and geese? This happened back on campus and now here? Do you have a magic orb that makes birds hate you? What next, a fat chocobo?” Cloud remarked with a shake of his head, a grin growing on his lips. </p>
<p>“This seriously isn’t the first time, Cloud. This is his 6th time. Zack, all you had to say was the word ‘geese’ and I think we would’ve known. I mean, one time it was pigeons. I thought this time it would be something genuinely important,” Tifa rolled her eyes before checking the clock on the wall. There was still 10 minutes left. </p>
<p>They waited until another chef came in, mousy brown hair tied with a soft pink ribbon. She wore a regular chef’s uniform, the embroidery of her name too far for Cloud to see. Genesis was the only one with a distinguished attire so far, something that Cloud found a bit strange.  A cheery smile graced her face as she giggled, “Hello, good morning everyone!” </p>
<p>Tifa sighed out blissfully, her eyes smiling fondly. Cloud figured this was Aerith. She had this positive energy around her that brightened up Barret and Genesis visibly. </p>
<p>“Aerith, I want you to meet someone,” Tifa started, her hand now placed behind Cloud’s back before pushing him to her crush. </p>
<p>“Oh! Is this Cloud?” Aerith approached the blond, her smile wide. Everything about her seemed so welcoming that Cloud had calmed down, almost as if he was meeting an old friend. She held her out her fist to him and Cloud reciprocated with a fist bump. </p>
<p>“Tifa talks about you pretty often! I’m glad that I finally got to meet you!” Aerith exclaimed, clasping her hands together.</p>
<p>“I’m glad I met you too. Tifa talks a lot about you. Like, a lot.” Cloud landed his eyes at Tifa, who stuck her tongue at him. Aerith seemed like the perfect girl for Tifa and he was honestly glad that she found someone really nice to finally like. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Sephiroth was lounging in his office. He could start walking just a few minutes before the meeting. He liked to have a few moments of peace before it began. Sipping on the last of his black coffee, he finished reading for the day. There was a certain kind of calmness that washed over him before it was cut short nearly everyday at the office. Although he had off days, a lot of it was spent on mostly managerial work back at the office in his home. Constantly he called his suppliers for various ingredients. A chef and his supplier must have a special relationship, one where they would be close to their phones at all times. He remembered when Genesis described it as a middle school relationship, where some boy and girl constantly text each other “I love you” and “I wanted to hug you while walking to the next period, but I got shy”. Sephiroth scrunched his face in distaste at the analogy, but couldn’t deny its accuracy. He couldn’t really get the idea of a relationship at such a young age. Maybe the blossoming of the idea of infatuation, but he knew the relationships would last a few weeks at tops. He didn’t really know why he was thinking about this subject, in fact he rarely allowed himself to think so far off from his job while being at work. </p>
<p>His timer went off and so he walked out of his office. </p>
<p>Cloud’s attention was directed on the door. He was sure Sephiroth would come out any second. He could even hear the head chef’s steps just outside. Once the door did open, Sephiroth entered in quietly, his left hand holding onto a few pearlescent papers, ones that Cloud recognized as either menus or recipes. Just seeing the silver haired man made his stomach flutter. Sephiroth seemed so normal that it was strange. Back when he was roommates with Zack, when they were drunk enough, they would act out what it was like to work at Valentine au Dôme. Oh, god, those moments were so ridiculous. Zack wore his grey zip up hoodie over his head to imitate Sephiroth and acted comically harshly and then added “I am incredibly hot” as if it was a full stop to a sentence. Then Cloud and Zack would almost scream-laugh, not necessarily because they were making any sort of comedic gold, but more because they were shit faced. Now Cloud felt a bit bad for joking around in the past. Another part of him was struggling to not lose it because all he could imagine was Zack trying to hold down these college memories while trying to be serious. </p>
<p>Cloud’s unruly train of thoughts dissipated once Sephiroth began to speak. </p>
<p>“Hello everyone, I’m sure you noticed there is someone new in our meeting. If not, I recommend you to go to the optometrist tomorrow,” Sephiroth announced, his face displaying a small smile at his dry joke before his face fell back to its usual nonchalance, “I hope you all introduced yourselves to our new chef, Cloud Strife. Today, my shift, as well as Cloud's, would be focused on introducing our new member to the kitchen as well as various recipes that we have in place at the moment. Please feel free to demonstrate your work in front of him as well,” He glanced down at his papers before walking around the kitchen, handing each of the chefs de partie one of them. </p>
<p>Cloud didn’t expect Sephiroth to have a sense of humor. At all. Why was he so shocked at how human Sephiroth could be? And why was that smile… kinda cute? Once Sephiroth got close enough, he could smell the waft of cologne he was wearing. He smelled so nice. His fingers rubbed the menu in small circles as he read over what they would be serving for today.  Scottish salmon confit coated with Osetra caviar and wasabi cream, pan-fried sea bass with a lemongrass foam and stewed leeks, and various other fine dining courses that Valentine au Dôme served. </p>
<p>The rest of the meeting went smoothly, Sephiroth announcing what was scheduled for the day, including a few reservations that were special cases where no dairy was allowed or other obscure allergies and food preferences. This felt very different to the work environment that Cloud had come to know over the years. There were no meetings beforehand, some semblance of prep work just an hour before the shift began, but that was all. Cloud was relieved that this establishment had a special system like this, it definitely made himself feel more secure in what he was going into. A part of him also liked hearing Sephiroth’s voice. It was deep, but not overly so. It carried through the air smoothly. He also sounded humble, referring to Tifa and Barret and the rest of the chefs as if they were at his level. Cloud admired that. He had seen too many head chefs view their sous chefs as innately inferior when in reality, it was them  that were keeping the kitchen from falling apart. Around half way through the meeting, the other cooks entered the kitchen and Sephiroth left the chefs de partie to brief them on the direction of the preparations that were to be done today. Once the meeting was over, the prep began. </p>
<p>Sephiroth approached Cloud, standing next to him as his new coworkers dispersed, “I want to make sure if everything I said during the meeting was clear to you. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to ask,” His eyes examined the kitchen for a moment, “Like I said today, I’ll be mostly introducing you to the courses. You’ll have all of the written recipes handed over to you by the end of your shift today.” </p>
<p>“I understand. I have to admit, this seems to be a lot less stressful than I thought it would be.” Cloud answered as he began to walk around the kitchen, watching the cooks prepare various vegetables, their precision stunning. </p>
<p>“In a moderate amount, it can be beneficial, but an overabundance of it can hinder even the best of cooks,” Sephiroth said as he strided over to a particular station ahead of him. </p>
<p>Cloud followed and watched as multiple langoustines were de-shelled and deveined. They looked to be in excellent conditions, their milky white flesh glistening in the bright light of the kitchen. However, there was one junior cook that was struggling a little bit. </p>
<p>“Hey, hey,” Cloud softly called out as he walked over to him.</p>
<p>Cloud looked at the kitchen knife that the young man was using and gently took it. After looking at it for a moment, he inquired, “When was the last time you sharpened your knife?” Cloud pressed the blade of it against his thumb nail. There was no sign of the pale line indicating that the knife was sharp. He then wiped at the sharp object with a towel that was next to the cook’s designated station. </p>
<p>“Now that I think of it… it’s been a few days,” the man admitted before looking a bit flustered. </p>
<p>Cloud noticed this and jumped to reassure them, “Oh, don’t be embarrassed about it. It happens to the best of us. You can also lighten your grip on it as well, I think that would help out.” </p>
<p>The younger’s facial expression lightened up as they retrieved their whetstone to sharpen it. Once they did, their langoustine preparation was peachy.</p>
<p>“Just make sure you maintain your knife, I know some days can be very busy, but it’s best to take care of your tools. It makes things easier,” Cloud advised before walking off to observe more stations. He nearly forgot that Sephiroth was right there. </p>
<p>Sephiroth was pleased to see that Cloud wasn’t really afraid to interact with the younger staff. The blond was approachable, gentle, but gave good advice. Even he struggled to approach them  at times. </p>
<p>They walked around the kitchen for a while, stooping at every station. Cloud was speedy, got his point across and managed to converse with the rest of the brigade Sephiroth trusted his chefs de partie enough to manage without his direction while he monitored Cloud. The silence between them wasn't strange, the moment they talked to each other however, was antsy due to their unfamiliarity. Zack and Cloud briefly chatted about the preparations of several ingredients with an air of ease between them, Sephiroth instantly knew they were friends with how Zack addressed his new sous-chef with various nicknames sprinkled in. There was a part of Sephiroth that envied how easygoing Zack was, Angeal referring to him as a puppy on multiple occasions. </p>
<p>The shipment of white truffles arrived earlier this morning. He wanted to make a new course for next week, but he knew the quality of those truffles wouldn’t be satisfactory for his establishment. Yet, he needed to check how this shipment  would taste like. </p>
<p>“Cloud, I need your help. You too, Barret,” Sephiroth directed his voice to Barret, who was just a few feet away from him. </p>
<p>“Aight, I’ll come,” Barret answered gruffly, departing from the cooks he was in charge of. Their station was based on meats since Barret specialized in it, like how Aerith specialized in pastries and Genesis in various types of vegetables and French cuisine in general. </p>
<p>Sephiroth picked up a big box and set it down on an empty kitchen island. Then he picked out a few round white truffles, muddy pink and white curved mazes displayed on the lacerated edges of the expensive fungi. It emitted an acquired smell, but its taste was considered to be addictive. There are scientists who say that the scent of these truffles due to a concoction of certain chemicals that apparently mimic the pheromones mammals produce when they are mating. A corner of his lips quirk up for a millisecond as he thinks about the fact that this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to sex in his life. Sniffing a white truffle. He doesn’t know if that’s a laughable matter or not. Most likely not. It was probably depressing. </p>
<p>“Barret, you know that I’m trying to create a new recipe. I need these white truffles for it. They’re admittedly not optimal persay, but I wanted to use them so we can trial this dish.” </p>
<p>The preparation for the experimental dish was simple. Cloud aided Sephiroth in cutting some potatoes on a stainless steel mandoline slicer as well as making a crust infused with some house made white truffle oil. Soon, they sprinkled on some chive, fleur de sel, mignonette peppers and prepared some foie gras curls to garnish the dish. Thin slices of white truffle were neatly arranged on top of long, thin, fried slices of house baguette, the finishing touches of the course were a few brushes of vinaigrette that was made of sherry vinegar. </p>
<p>Barret, Sephiroth and Cloud gathered around the small dish. They were all folding forks, glaring at it with some weird determination. Sephiroth was the first to taste, his face ever so stoic as he chewed. Barret followed, his eyebrows furrowing. Cloud was anxious to eat, not sure if he should provide his opinions on this course so freely. Once he did consume a small part of it, the majority of its flavor palate melded together nicely, however the white truffle came off as weak. </p>
<p>“It’s nice and all, but… the white truffle doesn’t pop out as much as it’s needed,” Cloud murmured out without much thought before his eyes widened for a second. Shit, did he speak too honestly? Was he supposed to wait for Sephiroth’s input?</p>
<p>“Yeah, Sephiroth, the shit’s kinda weak,” Barret agreed as he set his small fork. </p>
<p>“I had a feeling that it wouldn't be satisfactory. In fact, I knew. But I needed to make sure that we have the rest of the seasoning down for this.” Sephiroth pushed the dish forward and fished out his phone from his pocket. From where they stood, they could see his screen, his wallpaper being that of the default one that came with the phone. He tapped onto the weather app and it was already set on Italy, “Over the next week, the weather should be dropping there and that should pretty much fix the quality discrepancy.” </p>
<p>Cloud nodded, quietly admiring the fact that Sephiroth thought in advance about everything. He knew he could never be a head chef because, to put it simply, Cloud believed he didn’t have enough brain cells to think ahead. He was completely content with being a sous-chef. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Once the preparation was done, lunch break was in place. Today, it was Zack’s day to cook up the meals for everyone. There was a tradition in Valentine au Dôme; while the communard would make food for the rest of the regular staff, the chefs de ligne had taken a bit of a habit of cooking for themselves. It was an opportunity for them to experiment, realizing their wildest culinary inventions without the scrutinizing mouth of their customers. It was a way for them to also improve and polish their skills even further. However, the communard had taken a vacation for the week. </p>
<p>“Man, you should rest up while you can. It can get hard, the shift and everything,” Zack explained while the rest of the chefs walked out the kitchen except for those who still had their own culinary matters to settle. </p>
<p>“It feels weird that you have to do everything. The others help you out, right?” Cloud inquired as he settled next to his friend while deboning a large chunk of salmon with long metal tweezers. </p>
<p>“Yeah, they do, but it’s your first shift and the rest of our buddies gotta do stuff,” Zack answered back before looking at Cloud, then groaning “I know damn well I can’t really argue with you on this, but don’t say anything if you feel like dying, okie?” </p>
<p>“You can count on me to definitely not say anything. Absolutely one hundred percent.” Cloud grinned. </p>
<p>Zack and Cloud grilled a bunch of salmon, basing them with melted butter and lemon juice.  It was served with a side of rice and stir fried broccoli. It did take a bit of work, but everyone managed to get their plates. </p>
<p>“What do we say?” Sephiroth asks rhetorically to the rest of the chefs, his eyes landing on Zack and Cloud. </p>
<p>An onslaught of  “thank you Zack and Cloud” echoed out of the room and for some reason Cloud felt proud. He barely got this amount of gratefulness from anyone at his other jobs. Maybe if he did a huge favor, but he didn’t think grilling the most forgiving piece of fish fillet was exactly anything. Seriously, it was almost like a salmon was evolved to be cooked with how easy it was to not mess up. A sense of fulfillment continued to linger as he ate, chatting with his coworkers freely. Once in a while, he glanced over at Sephiroth, who was mostly listening to Genesis’ side of the conversation. There was something silly with how Sephiroth seemed to just let Genesis talk his ear off to him, but also endearing. In the past, he thought Sephiroth to be someone who paid no one any of his time. Now he was getting more and more persuaded that Sephiroth simply had a personal vendetta against interviewers and appearing on any sort of media. </p>
<p>Once the shift began later, the kitchen was quiet for the most part. The chefs de ligne watched over their cooks. Once in a while, there were a few comments and conversations thrown about here and there. The work flow of the kitchen was constantly busy, but not catastrophically in disarray. Cloud was plating some smoked salmon in a bed of crème fraîche, dotting the outer rim of with dots of parsley cream as Sephiroth watched over him. Cloud felt his presence behind him and made an effort to not be flustered, gulping quietly to himself and focusing on the course. Everything felt surreal. Barely anything went wrong, except maybe for Zack hip bumping him too hard while he was frying up some langoustines wrapped with a strip of buckwheat crêpes that Aerith made. Cloud knew he was going to feel that for a few days. </p>
<hr/>
<p>The last of the customers began to leave at around 10pm, Sephiroth escorting an old lady out of the establishment along with her husband. He didn’t mind doing this, in fact he liked it when he could help out some of his customers outside of just cooking. The old lady had a few drinks making her walking wobbly. </p>
<p>“Oh, dear, you work too hard, you know? You don’t have to help me out,” the old woman crooned out with a small smile as she limped out. </p>
<p>“It was a wonderful experience eating here. And now we have a fine young man walking us out of here,” Her husband followed, his voice warm and grainy, his arms linked with Sephiroth’s.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe I work hard enough at times. But doing this once in a while feels nice, ma’am” Sephiroth admitted to the old lady while he smiled politely, his voice quiet, as if he spoke any louder, the old couple’s ears would ache. </p>
<p>“But you’re still young, darling. You’ll die an early death if you keep stressing. I know it’s hard to run this restaurant, but you’re all handsome and you have energy to do things,” the old lady retorted back.</p>
<p>“When I was your age, I was workin’ all hard on the mine off in Kalm. Oh, how I wish I had those days back,” the old man rambled, his words trailing off before the lady interjected. </p>
<p>“Don’t mind him, sweetie, he just gets like that, being all senile. Don’t call me ma’am, call me Granny. When I come back here again, you better call me that. You better listen to us, young man. Take some days off without some work. I can see the dark circles under your eyes,” Granny pointed out as she gazed up at Sephiroth, her eyes radiating coziness. </p>
<p>Sephiroth stared down. So, this is what it’s like to have grandparents. Or some fragment of that. ‘Granny’ was right. He knew he was in his prime, physically and mentally for the most part. Sephiroth was letting his work consume him whole even if he liked it. He at least admitted that. It took him three years, but it was something. </p>
<p>“I’ll try my best to rest up when I have the time to, Granny,” Sephiroth paused at calling the old woman such a nickname that is usually rooted in familiarity, “But for now, I have to close up shop.”</p>
<p>The old man got into the driver seat as Sephiroth opened the door for Granny, closing it gently before taking a few steps away from the car as they drove off. Sephiroth waved at the old couple, his thoughts drifting. He didn’t realize he was still standing there, the car already far, far away from Valentine au Dôme. What snapped him out of his reverie was Genesis waving his hand at Sephiroth’s face. </p>
<p>“Hey, Sephie. What are you thinking about,” the auburn headed man teased as he reached in out of his pocket for a pack of Marlboro Reds and a silver, custom engraved zippo lighter. It had a line of Loveless etched into it, specifically the line ‘She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting’. Genesis got a hold of one cigarette, promptly guarding the flame that his lighter made with his palm. He stood there, taking a long drag before blowing out slowly. </p>
<p>“I’m thinking about… how I might need a little bit of a break sometime this week. A day without work. I need to sort some things out first,” Sephiroth answered as he looked up at the towering buildings that surrounded him, the night refusing to sleep. </p>
<p>“What have I been telling you? Let your dad handle all of the work for a day and relax. Or let me just be head chef for that day,” Genesis winked at Sephiroth before chuckling, offering a cigarette as his expression fell, his lips pressed together into a flat line, “Ever since you took up this position, you’ve been working yourself to death.” </p>
<p>“I know I’ve been doing that. I’m just scared that if I take a break, something might go incredibly wrong in the kitchen or…” Sephiroth took the cigarette, waiting for Genesis to light it. </p>
<p>“Or because you don’t really have a life outside of work, you’ll feel like you have barely any purpose in just existing?” Genesis finished Sephiroth’s sentence, a hint of sassiness, but mostly concern emanating from his voice as he flicked his lighter on, the fire dancing while he let the flames lick at Sephiroth’s cigarette. </p>
<p>Sephiroth took a long drag, his eyes staring ahead. There was a moment of quietness between them. The silver haired man exhaled slowly. </p>
<p>“Yes, you’re right,” Sephiroth shook his head with a small smile, “You know me too well, Genesis.”</p>
<p>“We’ve been close since high school. Of course I know you, dumbass,” Genesis scoffed, rolling his eyes. </p>
<p>“Also, you should quit smoking,” Sephiroth muttered, taking in another deep inhale of smoke. </p>
<p>“Says the man, who has accepted my offer and is now smoking with me. Maybe you should quit too,” Genesis barked, now starting to walk back to the restaurant with a ghost of a grin playing on his lips, “I still need to tend to my work.”</p>
<p>Sephiroth followed Genesis, smothering his cigarette at a public ashtray and entering into his establishment. He should definitely quit too, just not yet. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Cloud had finished with helping others clean their stations, walking around to see what else he could do. He met a young kid named Denzel, er, he wasn’t like a baby or anything. Just 18 years old. It was easier to apply to a restaurant as a kitchen porter. The requirements were being there as much as one could follow directions. Denzel was under his care, Cloud was watching over him, along with the designated station that he’d been deployed to in the kitchen. Cloud already was fond of him since he did as he was told, asked questions, and was ready to do whatever he could to finish his task. Denzel was reliable. Cloud asked him what he wanted to do in the future and Denzel shrugged. That was something Cloud to relate to with most aspects of his life except with work. </p>
<p>There was an after shift meeting that usually lasted for 15 minutes for the chefs. Zack had told him it was mostly talks about what there was to improve, if there was any additional thoughts on the shift and to report on shipments that would be coming into the kitchen during the week. They held their meetings at the bar of the restaurant. Once Cloud approached the bar, Tifa was behind the counter meticulously wiping at the wine glasses while the rest of the chefs sat on the stools. There was an empty spot between Zack and Barret, so Cloud managed to squeeze himself between them. </p>
<p>“You guys want the usual, right?” Tifa asked as she ducked down below the counter, opening up a cabinet that seemed to contain more alcohol, as if there wasn’t enough just adorning the walls of the bar area. Cloud was about to mention to Tifa that maybe drinking wasn’t a very good idea to do when you’re about to drive in less than an hour, but Tifa added on reassuringly, “Oh, by the way, Cloud, the drinks I make for these meetings are completely virgin.”</p>
<p>That did make Cloud relieved. </p>
<p>“Yeah, it would be stupid to drink and drive. I have a fucking daughter at home, I can’t even think about risking it,” Barret commented, leaning against the table with his legs swinging under him. </p>
<p>What Tifa mixed up was a Shirley Temple, but tasted somehow much better. It was syrupy, yet spectacularly citrusy. Its hue a warm red orange. Tifa called it a Cosmo Canyon. There was something very casual about this, reminded him of something. Yuffie contacted Cloud often since they exchanged Catuarbooks before graduation. She worked as a chef back in Wutai and often told accounts of dinner parties that her restaurant often went on that resulted in drinking copious amounts of sake bombs and waking up the next day feeling like death. Oftentimes she had to go back to work that day and sometimes even repeated the drinking and partying again. This felt similar, but much more laid back with no alcohol present. Cloud hummed as he sipped at his drink with the rest of the members of the team before Sephiroth spoke up. </p>
<p>“How was the shift for everyone?” </p>
<p>“It was just like any old day kinda? I did enjoy making some ingredient substitutions for some of our customers. I look forward to some new recipes we’ll do,” Zack commented. </p>
<p>“Dessert was the same as well, I am looking forward to some imported butters we’ll be receiving. I’m thinking of working on a new dessert recipe too,” Aerith hummed in thought before speaking, “probably going for a type of lychee sorbet. I trialed it with some of my cooks, but I do want to improve it,” Aerith added. </p>
<p>Barret began, “I’m pretty damn excited for the wagyu that’s coming in on Thursday. We haven’t worked with Matsusaka beef yet,” He finished the rest of the drink, leaning back. </p>
<p>As everyone spoke, Cloud pretty much sat there listening. They were all excited for shipments that pertained to their expertise. Genesis was excited for a huge tuna shipment that was coming from Wutai, Tifa was looking forward to some wine shipments that were coming in from Italy and France. Sephiroth listened attentively. This shift wasn’t eventful for anyone other than Cloud and that was only because it was his first. He was wishing that they would skip over him since he was tired, but then Sephiroth’s eyes landed on him, his face peeking out since he leaned over at the bar. </p>
<p>“This shift was my first one today so everything was new. It wasn’t too hard or chaotic. I’m looking forward to everything,” Cloud admitted. </p>
<p>“Oh, trust me, it’ll get hard for you soon,” Genesis joked before Sephiroth glared at him, “But we all get through it fine.”</p>
<p>“That was incredibly encouraging of you, Genesis,” Cloud retorted with the same amount of jest. </p>
<p>Genesis scoffed at Cloud, knowing that Cloud was teasing him back. It was refreshing to have one more person in his kitchen to do that. </p>
<p>Sephiroth cleared his throat, “Well, I am glad that this shift wasn’t hard for you. Although Genesis is the way he is, he’s right about the fact that it does get hard sometimes. However, given the way you have interacted with everyone, I don’t have any doubt that you’ll pull through fine.” </p>
<p>Cloud was thankful that the dim lights of the restaurant didn’t show the growing redness that was painted across his cheeks. He wasn’t used to receiving compliments, much less from Sephiroth. Soon, everyone was excused by Sephiroth and walked over to the servers in order to fetch their share of the tip. Cloud followed Tifa before Sephiroth stopped him by calling out his name. The blond turned around. </p>
<p>“Cloud, remember the recipes I wanted to give you? I have them at my office, so please come to me once you are finished with the servers.”</p>
<p>Before Cloud could say anything, Sephiroth was out of his line of sight. How the hell did that man walk so fast? It was probably because he was like, 6’4. Cloud was so distracted with his work day, his interview yesterday that he didn’t fully acknowledge that Sephiroth has been blessed with the genetics that allowed him to grow like a beanstalk. </p>
<p>Cloud got an acceptable amount of tip, breezing through a few gil bills with his thumb as he recounted for the third time while he leaned against the wall near the cashier. Tifa kept recounting hers too, losing track of how much she had. </p>
<p>“Remembering when you used to be a waitress, Tif?” Cloud asked, his gaze fixing on her. </p>
<p>“Yeah, and I hated it. You know that one guy, uh, from high school? The guy with the weird shades,” Tifa gestured, her fingers forming circles that she placed on her eyes.</p>
<p>“And the shirt that says ‘Bass fishing FUCKS’ and the camo pants?” Cloud elaborated. </p>
<p>“Yeah, him. He used to try to sell me dried maple leaves off the ground as weed every time I was outside for a break,” Tifa admitted. </p>
<p>“What the fuck? That’s so funny, why didn’t you tell me?” Cloud gasped, placing his hand on his chest as if he was severely betrayed before bursting out in laughter. The fact that people like that existed in Nibelheim was strange, to find out that one of his classmates was trying to scam people in such a hilarious way just hit differently. </p>
<p>“I just thought, man, this would be a really stupid thing to tell Cloud in the future and I just never told. And now you’re laughing, so it worked,” Tifa huffed out in amusement before shoving her money into her pockets before warning, “I wanted to tell you now especially since every now and then around here, there’s someone who tries to deal mako. They can be a bit shady, so watch out.”</p>
<p>“Damn, it really be like that in Midgar,” Cloud leaned his head back and it thumped against the wall, his head turning to Tifa, “Seriously, that sucks. You want me to walk you back to your car right now? Has anyone been doing that here?”</p>
<p>“Nah, I’m good. Remember? Nibelheim’s only black belt in Taekwondo was me. And I taught self defense classes.” </p>
<p>“I know that, but you know…” Cloud peered out the window with his eyes narrowing, making an effort to see if there was anyone conspicuous lurking before Tifa started to walk out the door of the restaurant, having already said her goodbyes to her colleagues. Cloud still followed her. </p>
<p>The walk to her car was normal, but the nighttime made it slightly unnerving. Midgar, like any city, could become astronomically more dangerous at night, especially in areas where the city barely put in any sort of effort in helping its residents. Cloud had moved multiple times, usually where rent would be dirt cheap and walking into his apartment from work could be a matter of being stabbed in the stomach with his wallet taken, or arriving safely into his wallpaper peeling home. </p>
<p>Once he got Tifa into her car, he waved her goodbye, standing there to send her off. Jogging back into the restaurant, Cloud speedwalked to Sephiroth’s office. For a moment, Cloud had forgotten that he had to meet with Sephiroth and he knew if he just left for home, that would strike him as someone who was careless with his job. </p>
<p>Cloud stood in front of the door. Should he knock or just enter in. After some consideration, the blond opened the door slowly, peeking his head through to find Sephiroth with his reading glasses sliding off of his nose while he studiously read a book. </p>
<p>“Sephiroth?” Cloud quietly called out. </p>
<p>Sephiroth’s head perked up, his green eyes now on the new sous-chef, “Oh, hello, Cloud,” his voice pleasant as he set his book down while taking off his spectacles and setting it down on the mahogany office desk. He waited expectantly for Cloud to take a seat in front of him.</p>
<p>Cloud shuffled and pulled out the chair to settle down, feeling like he was sitting down for an interrogation. He stared down at his lap for a moment before looking into Sephiroth’s face, not trying to look directly into his eyes. He did that once, during his interview. Cloud didn’t have the energy to do that again. There was only so many times a person can subject themselves to bedazzlement. </p>
<p>“I advise you to read the last 30 recipes of the book and the first 7 ones,” Sephiroth directed as he opened up a sliding drawer from his side of the desk to pull out a book. It appeared rather simple, red leather adorning the tome of culinary expertise. He placed it gently in front of Cloud. </p>
<p>Cloud carefully took it into his hands, flipping through the pages of the book with wonder in his eyes. In the beginning of the book, were various essential courses that dated from way before Sephiroth’s time as a head chef. These were the products of Vincent Valentine’s creations and it felt special. He was trying to hold back his excitement, feeling honored to be entrusted with this relic, even though its existence was merely fashioned out of practicality. </p>
<p>Setting the book at his lap, Cloud nodded, “I’ll do just that.”</p>
<p>With the silence that lingered in the atmosphere between them, it was more than apparent that they were both inept with interaction. Until Cloud had a question. It was about Genesis. There was something odd about how… distinguished he appeared.</p>
<p>“Why exactly does Genesis have a… unique uniform? Is there a special reason that I should know?” </p>
<p>Sephiroth’s eyes widened before a small smile grew on his lips, his head shaking, “All I can say  is that… He’s dramatic. Always been,” A small chuckle breathily escaped, “He joked that he should get a red uniform to make him stand out, but I ended up getting one tailored for his birthday.” </p>
<p>Cloud didn’t expect to see Sephiroth laugh. A smile was already something that was new to him, but a laugh? That magical sound that came out of him? It made him flabbergasted. He knew that he needed to stop being so entranced with Sephiroth, but it was hard. How does one shed years and years of idol worship in a single day? The answer was, that it’s impossible unless the person that is one’s subject of admiration ended up being shitty. </p>
<p>“I’m not very surprised at the premise of that,” Cloud smiled, his hand petting the book he had acquired, “By the way, am I supposed to keep the book or would you like for me to return it?”</p>
<p>“You can keep it. That was my last copy of the book that was written by my father. I don’t think I’ll need another sous-chef for a while, so I don’t have to bother with asking for another book, nor for you to return it.” Sephiroth answered, his eyes gravitating towards the clock that hung above the door. It was 11:15pm. He didn’t want to keep Cloud for too long, but there was one more thing he had to say. “Before you go, I also wanted to inform you that I will be pairing you with one chef de partie each week so you can acclimate to the kitchen and gain more experience in each station.” </p>
<p>Cloud nodded, then promptly pushed the velveteen chair behind and got up, politely placing it back to its original position. He didn’t expect to be thrown into his position as a sous-chef right away.. Before he exited the office fully, Cloud turned his head around to speak to Sephiroth.</p>
<p>“You should go home soon too. You have a goodnight, Sephiroth.” </p>
<p>“You too, Cloud.”</p>
<p>Cloud walked out of the restaurant after he had gathered his belongings from the cabinets that were used by the staff. He nearly bumped into a few dining chairs, but he didn’t mind. Not with how today went. Working with Zack, seeing Tifa, it made him feel genuinely happy. He couldn’t count how many days where he had missed the two of them. This first day as part of Valentine au Dôme’s team was a dream that he had now fufillied. This was the highlight of Cloud’s career as a chef and he wanted to remain amongst his coworkers as long as he could. Another thing that has supplemented Cloud’s feelings of euphoria was learning about Sephiroth. The smiles and laughs that came out of the silver haired man felt precious, Cloud knowing that such expressions from him seemed rare. So many things looked up for the blond.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>https://www.highspeedtraining.co.uk/hub/kitchen-hierarchy-brigade-de-cuisine/ here are some terminology the ~kitchen hierarchy~ and here is the egg sandwich from the first chapter https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/448460075391769274/ and the salmon in creme fraîche in this chapter https://pin.it/6eP7Rgc </p>
<p>please leave a kudo, comment, and bookmark if u like it!! thank u for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Relaxation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Valentine au Dôme became Cloud’s second home, although its novelty loomed over Cloud. Since his employment, the blond was to be stationed with a different chef de partie each week. He spent more than half his day working under Sephiroth before being dispatched with Aerith. He immensely enjoyed working with her, mostly because he got to taste her lychee sorbet multiple times. Through trialing her new creation, Cloud discovered how sensitive her taste buds were to the overall palate of a dish. It took him a few more moments after her to make sense of what she needed to alter, while Aerith was already shuffling around the kitchen gathering more ingredients in order to tweak the icy dessert to her liking. After the lychee sorbet was perfected in the eyes of the bubbly pâtisserie chef, the course was garnished with raspberry coulis topped with lemon poppy foam. Seeing Aerith jump in joy when Sephiroth approved her recipe further validated how invigorating and fulfilling this occupation could be to Cloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though Sephiroth appeared thoroughly satisfied while tasting Aerith’s lychee sorbet, Cloud could notice how tired the head chef was. During most of his shifts, Sephiroth’s eyes would flutter shut before slowly opening multiple times, he would also rub his temples with his index and middle finger with his eyebrows scrunched together. So, when Sephiroth announced that he would take the day off yesterday and that his father would stand in for him, Cloud wasn’t surprised. Perhaps in the past, he somewhat would be, but it didn’t take a lot of brainpower to realize that Sephiroth wasn’t infallible. Remnants of hero worship remained, but in those moments when he witnessed Sephiroth’s momentary vulnerability, the only thing he felt was worry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud was at the kitchen first, waiting for the morning meeting to begin. Slowly, the rest of the chefs entered in. His coworkers chatted with him while Genesis kept an eye on the clock on the wall eagerly. Today, Cloud was to finally meet Angeal Hewley, the chef de partie in charge of vegetables, legumes, and the various soups at Valentine au D</span>
  <span>ô</span>
  <span>me. Genesis informed him that Angeal took a few days off because his mother back at Banora had gotten sick and she needed his care. Some part of Cloud felt nervous meeting Angeal and Vincent, especially since Zack described Angeal as a bit of a hardass, but had a heart of gold and was very honorable in his actions and of course. Vincent Valentine was the very man who founded the restaurant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was 10 minutes left until the meeting started when a man whom Cloud suspected to be Angeal walked in, an air of dignity clinging to him. His facial features were pretty sharp and his eyebrows were stuck in a permanent furrow. Angeal greeted Genesis warmly before walking towards Cloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re the new sous-chef,” Angeal spoke, holding out his hand, gesturing for a handshake, “I’m Angeal Hewley, it’s good to finally meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud took Angeal’s hand, shaking it with a polite smile, “It’s good to meet you too. The name’s Cloud Strife.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard from Sephiroth that starting next week, you will be under my station. He told me to tell you since he’s not here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see, well, I look forward to learning more from you,” Cloud replied, nodding curtly until he heard the door to the kitchen open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent Valentine’s entrance was relatively quiet, striding in as if he owned the place. Which he did at some point. He wore a black chef’s uniform with his name embroidered in white thread. His pitch black hair was tied up in a high ponytail. His deep red eyes landed on Cloud for a moment too long, as if he was mentally taking notes. He stood where Sephiroth would, the menus for tonight’s shift tucked neatly in his right arm. Even though Vincent was considerably older than Sephiroth, his appearance was youthful, the only wrinkles he had were under his eyes. Cloud could see that they had some resemblance to each other, yet there had been a rumor that Sephiroth had been actually adopted and Cloud didn’t really know what to believe. Vincent Valentine is a legend in the culinary world, already attaining three michelin stars at the young age of 32. Maintaining those stars has been considered, to an extent, more special than receiving them, since so many chefs could lose a star if they made even one mistake and if those mistakes piled up, the restaurant would be completely starless. Cloud remembered scouring on WuTube late at night back in high school, watching countless interviews and sections of documentaries featuring Vincent Valentine. Even though Cloud had a strange attachment to Sephiroth, he immensely respected Vincent Valentine’s work and overall outlook of the culinary business. Cloud knew that while Michelin stars did not really mean anything and were constructs created by Michelin, there was still an insane amount of prestige that came with being vetted constantly and still emerging to be the best. Countless times Vincent shrugged when he was asked if he felt strongly about the importance of the Michelin star accolade before answering curtly that he simply wanted everything to be perfect regardless of such a system. Simply describing Cloud’s feelings towards Vincent walking into the kitchen so nonchalantly as starstruck was an understatement. The chefs stood in their place humbly, the head chef of honor’s mere presence demanding respect without verbally or physically threatening those who do not supply . </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent cleared his throat while holding the menus in his hands, his posture relaxed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, everyone. It has been a while since you’ve seen me,” Vincent’s gazed focused on Cloud, “Or even the first time ever,” He flipped through the menus as he announced, “As you know, I am here to fill in for Sephiroth. I think anyone could see that he’s been overworking himself,” He dryly admitted, his eyes now fixed on Genesis and Angeal. There was something inherently passive aggressive or brooding about the way he emphasized his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Vincent walked around while passing the menus to each chef, he spoke about the direction their kitchen needed to take today. When Vincent stared intently at Cloud, he stood there for an extra second to finish a sentence as if to emphasize a point. The meeting ended and while the chefs de partie were speaking to their cooks, Vincent approached Cloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a momentary silence between him before Cloud spoke, “It’s good to meet you, Chef Valentine. I’m Cloud,” For the second time today, the blond gestured for a handshake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent took it, shaking at it with vigor then letting go to shove his hand into his pant pocket, “Sephiroth told me about you. It’s nice to meet you too. I thought it would take me a whole year for me to see you,” Vincent’s expression turned grim for a moment with the implication that Sephiroth worked to the bone, something that Cloud wasn’t so happy to hear, “I didn’t think my son would manage to find a new sous-chef, but here you are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of Cloud’s eyebrows quirked up and without thinking too much, he asked, “Why did the last one leave?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not necessarily my place to talk about it. You can ask someone else though,” Vincent then walked away to peruse the kitchen, going as fast as he came. Cloud stood there for a moment before walking over to Aerith, who was looking at her shipment of raspberries with a scrutinizing gaze, even though Vincent had apparently checked on them this morning. Aerith popped one in her mouth and hummed in delight. Over the week, Cloud chatted with Aerith often as he helped her prepare various desserts. During shifts, she became incredibly quiet and focused, but she was still very affable. Cloud didn’t know how well he would adjust to Angeal’s presence the more he worked with Aerith. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look how nice these berries are,” the brunette chimed out pleasantly after she confirmed with herself that the quality was on par. Aerith rinsed a handful of raspberries under the running water of the sink in her station, “Open your hands, Cloud. You gotta try these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud opened his hands, a lopsided smile playing on his lips as Aerith plopped them into his hands, “Isn’t this too much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cloud, a handful is nothing! Enjoy yourself, part of quality checking is eating after all,” Aerith justified as she walked over to the freezer to check on some assortments of sorbets just a few feet away, cold air rushing out making Cloud shudder. He ate a few of the raspberries that were to be used as part of a compote for one of the many dessert courses that were served in the restaurant. It was so sweet, with just the amount of tartness that made it hard to not just inhale them. A part of him wanted to go into a secluded area in the restaurant and shove all of the raspberries in his mouth. Cloud snapped out of his raspberry induced reverie by Genesis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cloudy! I have something I want you to taste with me,” the auburn haired man’s voice made it so apparent that he was grinning, so naturally that made Cloud curious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back at Aerith, Cloud pointed at Genesis’ direction, asking, “Can I go over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aerith gave Cloud a thumbs up, her approval allowing him to walk on over to Genesis, who had set three bottles of dessert wine on the kitchen island near their station along with some wine glasses.  He filled a glass each of the first and handed it to the blond. Cloud squinted at the wine, swirling it in his glass before he delicately ate a piece of the dessert that Genesis offered and took a sip of the first wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Agh. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud scrunched his face in disgust, earning an obnoxious laugh from Genesis, who held onto his stomach while more chuckles escaped. Saying it tasted horrible was an understatement.While he recognized the wine as a genuinely good one,  all the sweetness of both the wine and the dessert had evolved into a corrosive amalgamation of flavor that had left an overwhelmingly acrid and unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely, it’s good to know that you have functioning taste buds,” Genesis remarked sardonically, gently removing the wine glass from Cloud’s hand. He emptied it in the closest sink and proceeded to hand over a cup of water to his colleague. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud swished water inside his mouth, swallowing while glaring at Genesis, who was pouring another glass of wine. A feeling of dread was filling him, wondering what kind of gastronomically unholy wine pairing would he subject him to. But Cloud refused to turn down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try this one with the raspberries,” Genesis directed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so Cloud did, with more caution of course. He just stood there, waiting for anything unique or horrid to happen to his taste buds, but it didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This just complements the berries, but it doesn’t add onto anything. It’s just okay. ” Cloud handed the wine glass to Genesis, who had set it onto the kitchen island carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis had poured him the last wine and slid a different dessert to him. Cloud had repeated the process, eating a small bit of the dessert before swirling and sniffing the wine to fully take in the flavor profile before drinking it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wow. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud’s taste buds were singing in high praise over this pairing. Visibly humming in approval, Cloud took another bite of the dessert and another sip. The first wine was an appalling assault, the second being an unimpressive shrug, and the third, oh boy, the third blew the other wines out of the water over and over again. It paired perfectly with the dessert, so much so that drinking with a different wine or eating a different dessert with the third wine felt unimaginable, as if it was sacrilegious to do so. There was this infinite positive feedback loop of pleasure. It was almost dangerous. It was definitely perfect for Valentine au D</span>
  <span>ôme. The restaurants that Cloud had worked at usually stopped at the second wine, a wine that doesn’t add anything to the food, but is good enough to simply complement each other. But of course, of course Valentine au Dôme went even further to find a heaven mandated pairing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I interrupting something over here, Cloud?” Genesis grinned, as he reached in for the glass that was held in Cloud’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cloud pulled away instinctively, momentarily feeling insulted that Genesis would take away something so good before he reluctantly handed it over. He knew being drunk on the job isn’t an option. Hopefully he’ll have another chance to try it again. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was still dark outside. Sephiroth had woken up in cold sweat, his breathing irregular as he sprung up. He was now sitting upright in bed, running his fingers through his long hair in order to compose himself. Oftentimes there were mornings where his already forgotten dream would activate his fight or flight response and Sephiroth would have to deal with the inconvenience of trying to ground himself. Irritation gnawed at Sephiroth, his eyebrows knitting together while his eyes were scrunched closed, attempting to utilize some breathing exercises he had learned in the past. Once the feeling of dread subsided, Sephiroth checked the time on his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>5:30am. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should be done with drying his hair by now. With a sense of urgency, he quickly left the bed and speed walked to the bathroom with his phone in his hand. Once he turned on the lights, Sephiroth stared at himself momentarily in the mirror. His dark circles were pronounced more than ever, deep purple crescents settled under his eyes. There were signs of a stubble coming in, making the lower half seem more dull and dark. He sighed out while he brushed his teeth. Sephiroth allowed showering to be a way to have a moment of respite before he left home, so there was a sense of disappointment in himself because of the fact he let his time in the bed override this part of his routine. Sephiroth was clothing himself frantically, buttoning up his dress shirt nimbly until his phone rang, groaning quietly to himself before he saw the caller id. It was his father. Sephiroth took the call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sephiroth,” Vincent addressed before pausing, already sensing his son’s unease with the way he answered the call, “I wanted to remind you of something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sephiroth quirked one of his eyebrows up, “What is it? I am sure I have everything in order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent sighed out with a small chuckle, “Seph, it’s your day off. Remember? Take it easy,” With that, he hung up without any further explanation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sephiroth stood in front of the large mirror in his bedroom, frazzled at the fact that he had no responsibilities for today. No morning meeting, no managing shipments, no monitoring over the prepping period and shift, absolutely nothing. Instead of feeling any semblance of relief, he felt his stomach lurch. Sephiroth walked backwards until the rear of his legs hit the bed, sitting down as he inhaled deeply. His hands rubbed at his face, lamenting over his lack of attention today. What made him feel worse was that his actions this morning further justified his need for a day off. He knew he needed a break, logically he knew. He couldn’t simply ignore his conversation with Genesis and the old lady that he has escorted last week. He also couldn’t avoid acknowledging the worried looks from Angeal, Aerith and even Barret while he worked last night. So, Sephiroth sat down to recollect himself. At this rate, he knew he couldn’t fall back asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After some time, he stood up to walk to the kitchen. Sephiroth could view the bustling city beyond his kitchen, the large windows spanning his flat. He knew that he wouldn’t be part of it. Ever since he was permitted to, Sephiroth craved absolute control over anything that he considered his business. There were pros and cons to that mentality, but Sephiroth allowed himself to turn a blind eye to the disadvantages until he was forced to stare at it by his colleagues, friends and family. Right now, he had to focus on making breakfast. It had been a while. After brewing coffee, he began rummaging through his cupboards. Sephiroth decided that he’d make pancakes. There was a lot of nostalgia regarding the dish. Back when things were simpler. Sephiroth smiled tiredly to himself as he mixed the batter, careful to not overstir. He added a hefty amount of vanilla extract. Nothing about his pancakes was sophisticated because that was how he ate it as a child. He never felt that tradition was important, </span>
  <span>but there were some exceptions</span>
  <span>. Molecular gastronomy was a field where one would ignore the teachings of the past and focus on the science of food and utilize its principles to make art. Sephiroth admired what one could do with molecular gastronomy ever since he was younger, having the need to consume spherified colorful gels, but he would rather try his father’s pancakes before any sort of deconstructed dish. This was a tradition for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After incorporating the last of his secret stash of rainbow sprinkles into the batter, Sephiroth began to butter his stainless steel pan. While he flipped his pancakes, the tenseness in his shoulders and the oncoming migraine dissipated for a moment. It made him forget about everything, the work or lack thereof, the chaotic morning. He set three pancakes onto an old white ceramic plate that was gifted to him, retrieved a can of whip cream and some mildly overripe strawberries. Sephiroth silently ate. The skyscrapers ahead of his condo stared at him in a way. It was the headquarters for the Midgar bank. At night, it appeared more appealing, the lights of each office cubicle illuminating the city along with various other buildings that disappeared into the horizon. To him, the building reminded him of dreams that people had thrown away in favor of the comfort of stable income that the corporate life had provided them. There were moments when he wondered if he would have done the same, if not for his upbringing, signing a contract of complete obligation for the rest of his life. He was still pleased with what he did. Who exactly can be pleased at how proficient they are at using their Moogle Sheets? Or MateExcel? Or how many emails they respond to, or calls they answered. To him, it was boring, that kind of lifestyle. But he knew he had been privileged enough to have other options. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sephiroth finished his breakfast and stayed put for a minute, trying to think of what to do with his day. As the moments passed, his brain couldn’t compute how he should relax. Shaking his head, he washed his dishes and sat on the couch. Papers. Work. Shipments. It all plagued his mind. Bouncing his legs, he leaned back to close his eyes. Watching television felt like a waste of his mental abilities. It was ridden with tacky reality shows. He couldn’t remember the last time he watched a movie and he didn’t bother to do so. A small portion of his morning was dedicated to stewing in his own incompetence at enjoying himself, staring absentmindedly on a blank wall mounted TV. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Sephiroth began to get a hold of himself once again, he paced back and forth in his living room. He settled in front of his fridge. It was rather desolate. The strawberries were an impulse buy from one of his late grocery sprees, thinking that he’d have had the time or desire to snack on them once he got home from work. Oftentimes, his dinners were low on effort as he didn’t care to spend too much time on himself since he had no one in particular to please. This lifestyle had made his refrigerator look like it was owned by a useless bachelor. Today, he was to stock up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before going out, he had changed into something more comfortable, trading his dress shirt into a thin, black turtleneck. When he exited his flat, some of his neighbors stared him down like a hawk, expecting a greeting of sorts. He replied in a curt nod of the head, but today Sephiroth felt distracted. That was what grocery shopping was for, to help clear his mind and to do a much needed chore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an underground parking lot, each space dedicated for one residence, although he could witness multiple cars belonging to one person. The most he had seen was 4, one of them being a stark red Corvette. He owned one. It served its purpose: getting from one place to another. And it did a fine job of it. He admired how discreet it looked, a sleek black Lexus. It didn’t give the impression of being too bourgeois, but it appeared relatively sober and classic. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was packed. Sephiroth flinched when multiple people brushed past him in the grocery store, touching at his person by accident. It made him claustrophobic. Being so damn tall attracted attention as well as his overall appearance, added with being somewhat of a celebrity made people stare at him. Having silver hair didn’t aid his ability to be discreet. It didn’t feel pleasant. He promised himself that he’ll never go out to this store during the day again. Snatching the last bag of long grained rice, Sephiroth scurried away. He didn’t like staying in one aisle for too long, since that ran the risk of obtaining something absolutely unnecessary. Staying too long in the fresh produce aisle led him to purchase strawberries that he barely got to eat last time. The most he allowed for indulging in his vices was purchasing a bar of high quality dark chocolate and one caramel stroopwafel. Even as he shopped, the nagging feeling of needing to work itched at him, making everything he did almost unbearable. He felt like calling his father, just to check on what was happening at Valentine au D</span>
  <span>ôme, but he knew that he wouldn’t answer. There were moments when Sephiroth wondered why exactly his father had a smartphone, when a flip phone would be of more use to him. He has never seen that man touch an app that isn’t the messaging or texting application. Then again, Sephiroth wasn’t any different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He checked out his items himself. Once he was back at home, his thoughts on his unproductiveness came back at full force. Sephiroth was struggling to not think about the restaurant, barely being able to formulate any other thought while he stashed his groceries away into his fridge and pantry. It wasn’t even about how the restaurant was running, his father had more experience with managing all of the affairs that the establishment would run into during preparation and the actual shift, and he had completely trusted his chefs to handle their station. Cloud had proven himself to Sephiroth with how open he was to learn from his designated station. The issue was him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘...because you don’t really have a life outside of work, you’ll feel like you have barely any purpose in just existing?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Genesis’ voice echoed out as Sephiroth leaned back against the kitchen counter, a headache beginning to set in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He already admitted to it. He already acknowledged that he should try existing without throwing himself into work. Why was it so hard then? Sephiroth usually kept his composure, restrained himself as best as he could pertaining to professional matters, so why did he have difficulty with not working? Well, he knew. Sephiroth was very well aware of why and it made the situation even more frustrating. His heart was thumping hard against his chest. He needed something to do, anything to distract him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he ended up working out. Within his flat, there was a room dedicated to his exercise machines. Sephiroth had an assortment of weights to lift, an extremely nice treadmill, and other equipment that aided in his regimen. It had been a few weeks since he had the energy and time to consider going back into upholding his routine. He planned to run and lift weights until he was too exhausted to stand. So he did. In fact, Sephiroth wobbled out of the room while panting, his eyes half lidded. There was a tinge of regret, knowing when he goes to work tomorrow, he’ll be sore, but coupled with a sense of relief knowing that he’ll be spared of his thoughts for even a little bit. Sephiroth splayed his limbs out, drinking from his bottle of water as he tried to catch his breath. His respite didn’t last long, in fact, it only lasted him a little bit more than an hour until his anxiety started to crawl back into the recesses of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fought with it until he finally submitted, walking quietly into his office to hole himself up. The well used office chair that resided in the room beckoned to him, leading Sephiroth to sit down. His work space was spotless, but not devoid of the tasks that kept his sanity. Sephiroth pulled out various papers from the drawers built into his desk, reading them over. Shame steeped into his chest, a small voice in his chiding him for both being unable to rest and unproductive. His inability to keep his promises with people who cared about him ate at him as he worked endlessly, but slowly his own thoughts became more of background noise than actual coherent words. Sephiroth made various sketches of dishes, all of them more theoretical than designed to be served to their patrons. There was one in particular that he took interest in. It was to be a salad, some sunchoke paired with cotton candy grapes, black winter truffles, and piedmont hazelnuts, with horseradish ‘mousse’ on the side. Sephiroth smiled to himself, knowing that Angeal would like to see this dish he had thought up of. Afterall, Angeal was the entremetier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange sinking feeling lurched. Sephiroth frowned, thinking about how Angeal would react with how he had lost to himself. He switched to work from his desktop, hoping that the bright blue light of the monitor would somehow deter him from feeling guilty about his failure. He sat there in the office for hours, not caring that the sun was setting and the moon looming over the sky, staring down at him in judgment. Sephiroth knew that no one could witness him in such a weak state, but turning around to gaze out of the glass walls and seeing the large, glowing lunar orb made him feel exposed. All that could be heard from the room was the clicking of his computer keyboard and the scribbling of the nib from his fountain pen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sephiroth’s head began to pound, his eyes drooping. Surely, time didn’t go that fast. But once he had looked at the time on the very right corner of his computer, he groaned. It was two in the morning, he had completely skipped lunch and dinner. If he was to cook up anything, it would take a while. He barely felt satisfied with the amount of work he had completed. He acknowledged that he needed rest in order to function properly for his shift tomorrow. After washing up, he poured himself a glass of dry red wine. Sitting on the corner of his bed, he sipped while spacing out, his gaze fixed at no particular point. The alcohol began to fully seep into his blood lulled him. In a haze, Sephiroth set the wine glass next to his bed and charged his phone. While staring at the ceiling, tucked into bed, regret stung at him until he passed out. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was invigorating. Cloud scurried through the kitchen during the shift, bringing over a box of raspberries to the dessert station. The pace of the kitchen always completely changed, hurried compared to prep. It was like watching an ant colony work, all towards one goal. Valentine au Dome’s goal being to thoroughly please their patrons. They worked quietly, speaking only to specify which orders to create. The lychee sorbet was popular and Aerith was flying all over the place, a smile gracing her lips. It was obvious that she was proud of her creation and that made Cloud feel fuzzy and warm inside. In his old work, creative freedom was far down the priority when pertaining to a chef de partie’s duty, the head and sous-chef being the primary ones to develop all of the courses. The work environment here was proactive and instead of being weighed down with exhaustion, Cloud felt like no amount of work could fully eat up his energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throughout the day, Cloud has been served small samples of different recipes that the other chefs were working on. Every single one of them was delightful, but they never stopped trying to improve the courses. Barret had been working on a special roast duck, a recipe that has been developing for over a week now, its glaze a constant work in progress. Cloud and Barret tasted the duck and both felt like today, it had finally been perfected. The day was incredibly satisfying, Vincent Valentine’s presence became very casual, talking to Cloud with a sense of ease while discussing the recipes they were trialing. The now honorary executive chef walked around the kitchen constantly, checking in with every chef. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the end of the shift, Cloud was busy cleaning up his station along with Aerith. Throughout the day she had checked up on him often, not always verbally. Her head tilted at times, almost asking him if things were going smoothly on his end of the line. Clean up was a time where everyone was particularly chatty though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh boy, the amount of lychees we burned through was so unexpected, I need to tell Sephiroth to order some tomorrow,” Aerith said as she wiped at the stainless metal below her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to order more raspberries too,” Cloud stated while he cleaned next to her, a grin on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just saying that so you can eat more, Cloud,” Aerith turned to stick her tongue out at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And? What are you going to do about that?” Cloud teased lightly, “But seriously, we are going to run out sooner or later. Best to tell him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should tell him to order extra, so you can eat a whole bunch with me secretly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you enabling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Aerith walked off with a laugh and a smile was growing on Cloud’s lips. When Tifa entered the kitchen, she waved her hand frantically at him, greeting him and Cloud did the same. They used to do that all the time, back in highschool. Back when they worked at the local Denny’s, Tifa would come into the kitchen before the dinner shift would start and waved. The joke was just waving at each other as long as possible before one of them had to walk out. So seeing it in person made him feel nostalgic. Watching Tifa going up to Aerith to talk made his smile even brighter. He felt happy. He hoped this would last as long as possible, feeling this gratified at work.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi guys! sorry, the upload of this chapter took me longer than i have anticipated but i hope u still liked what u read! i am having a lot of fun with this whole project that i have gotten myself into and i hope u enjoy where this goes. please like, comment, and give kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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